


The Sparrow Academy

by sea_pig



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Government Conspiracy, Government Experimentation, Mandy Patinkin DO NOT READ, Memory Loss, OOC Max Ryan, Parental David Rossi, Parental Jason Gideon, Please don't send me mean messages, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Sociopath!Jason Gideon, The BAU Team as Family (Criminal Minds), With A Twist, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:26:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29838087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_pig/pseuds/sea_pig
Summary: On Monday morning, February 3rd, 1974, Jason Gideon is reassigned. It's a promotion that he can't refuse, and one that has been planned for him for a very long time.---34 years later, Tara Lewis enters the BAU for her first day. But her new boss, Agent Gideon, has mysteriously vanished. In order to find him Tara has to navigate a distrustful group of profilers and a decades old conspiracy that threatens to devour them all. But she'll soon learn that there are some wounds from which you can never recover.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	The Sparrow Academy

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I owe some explanation. I've read and enjoyed a lot of foster family AUs in this fandom, but I've always wanted one that fit into canon. From that, came this. Its currently unfinished but I am working on it and will eventually finish it. If you have any questions about the universe feel free to ask, and I'll either answer them or make sure they get answered in the text. Anything you want to see just let me know and it may find a home here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Every man has his own destiny: the only imperative is to follow it, to accept it, no matter where it leads him.” – Henry Miller

On Monday morning, February 3rd, 1974, Jason Gideon is reassigned. It's a promotion that he can't refuse, and one that has been planned for him for a very long time.

There's an envelope waiting on his desk that morning, in the bullpen of the White Collar Crimes division on the fifth floor. It informs him of the transfer, to an unknown area on the far side of the building. It's signed by 'Section Chief Max Ryan', and has the official FBI seal in multiple places, so he knows it's not a prank. Even so, Jason can't help but glance suspiciously at the man in the chair next to his. "You know anything about this, Dave?" He asks, drawing the attention of his friend, who had been peering blearily down at his paperwork. Dave had worked for the FBI for three months, but he was still getting used to the early, early mornings. They'd already become close friends, except for their ongoing fight about the 'sport' of hunting, and Jason had taken Dave under his wing. Jason himself had only been an FBI agent for two years, but already his superiors were impressed with his skill in the field and at his desk. His fellow agents liked him as well- Jason had been worried that they might be jealous of him, but the team had welcomed him with open arms and some of the older agents even asked him for advice about their own cases. Twice a week the entire team went out for beers, and Jason always went. He'd worked hard for this, for so long, and he was finally living the life he'd always wanted. He was happy.

Which was why he was concerned about this sudden transfer. Dave lifted his head, blinked once, twice, and nodded. "Oh. Yeah. Williams dropped that off-" Williams was the Unit Chief, "Probably fifteen minutes ago. Maybe? I was just walking in." He shrugged, but leaned forward to peer at it. "Why, what's it say?"

Jason pulled the envelope back, quietly thanking Dave's nearsightedness. Something inside him didn't want Dave to read the note. Whether he was ashamed of the idea of the transfer, of leaving his team, or something else- he couldn't say. But something cold had warmed its way into his chest. He wanted to rip the envelope up, pretend he never saw it. "I'll tell you later. Where is he?"

"In the budget meeting all day. Remember, he told us yesterday 'I don't want to see a single damn one of you hovering around near my office'- what's it say?" He made a move to reach out for the paper, despite the fact that Jason was standing, and nearly a meter away.

"I'll tell you later." He said again, peering down once more at the letter. _"Report to Room 01UA upon reception of this transfer notice. Any and all questions regarding this notice will be answered upon arrival. Section Chief SSA Maxwell Ryan."_

Funny thing was, it didn't say what unit or division he was the section chief of. And Gideon had never heard of him (he'd met most of the section chiefs at various office parties throughout his two years here).

"Jason, come on." Dave looked marginally more awake now, and he was standing. He stepped closer to Jason, eyes looking at his face now, no longer on the paper. "You look like you're about to pass out." He reached out, grasping Jason's elbow to draw him closer to his seat, but the other agent pulled away.

"I'm fine, Dave. Really. I just need my coffee." He waved the paper loosely through the air. "It's just a court notice. I've got to meet with some prosecutor in half an hour- I really wish they'd tell me these things ahead of time." He faked a chuckle, and calmly folded the paper back up and slipped it back into the envelope before pocketing it again. He'll tell Dave after the meeting, he's decided. After he gets some answers, reprimands this 'Maxwell Ryan' for his inadequate workplace memos. And after he talks with Williams. They can't send him away without some sort of notice, can they? And then he'll be able to give a proper goodbye to all his friends, Dave included. No sense in worrying the kid now, when Jason isn't even sure there's something to worry about in the first place.

At first he was worried that Dave has seen through the lie- they've known each other for two years after all, Dave was probably the best friend he'd ever had. But after a moment Dave nodded and returned to his desk. "Grab yourself some coffee on the way, then. Traffic is hell this time of day."

"Trust me, I will." Gideon assured him, making sure to grab his coat as he walked toward the door.

Half an hour later finds him not at a lawyer's office, but standing in front of a door in a sub basement of the FBI Headquarters. It was made of a thick, sturdy wood that made the door look heavy and imposing. It had '01UA' printed on a small placard next to the door, but Jason still wasn't certain that he was in the correct place. He'd had to ask about a dozen people the right way before he found himself here, and there were no other doors in this corridor. The corridor itself, in fact, was off the beaten path and accessible only by a small stairwell in the back of the building.

He was taking a moment to examine the door and evaluate his choices. He could go inside, or he could turn around and leave. Wait for Williams' to finish that meeting and find out what was going on, even claim that he couldn't find the place.

The indecision paralyzed him for several seconds before the decision was made for him. With no warning the door jerked open, and standing on the other side of the threshold was a man. Taller that Jason, though not by much, with faded blonde hair that was cut close to his head, and heavy brown eyes. Jason was too startled by his sudden appearance to say anything.

"Jason Gideon." The man took advantage of the silence. His eyes flicked briefly from Gideon's face, taking in his entire body. The frown tightened into more of a grimace- though Jason couldn't discern the reason. This all felt like some sort of test, except that no one had told Jason or given him any study materials. "I suppose they know what they're doing." He said finally, and stepped backwards into the room. Jason, with no other visible alternative, followed behind him.

The room turned out to be several rooms- the one they'd just entered was large, large enough to hold an entire bullpen of agents. But it was empty; no tables, desks, chairs.. nothing. Even the lights above them seemed to realize there was nothing worth illuminating- they were dim and flickered frequently.

To the left and right were closed doors, leading either to offices or perhaps other hallways. At the far end of the open room were a pair of archways, adjacent and parallel to each other, but the lights beyond them were turned off and Jason couldn't see what might be there.

All in all it was a dismal place, and Jason turned to look at the man ahead of him, certain that this was some prank. Any moment Dave would burst from one of the doorways to laugh at him.

But the man seemed too serious, and he was once again staring silently at Gideon. They stood like this for a few more seconds, and Jason decided he'd had enough.

"Listen, if you don't tell me what's going on here-" He pulled the envelope from his pocket and shook it menacingly. "Are you Agent Ryan?"

"Yes." The man, Maxwell Ryan, answered simply. "I am. Though I don't know how great an agent you are if it's taken you this long to figure that out."

"Well, it's not like you've given me much to work on! I mean-" he gestured to the empty room. "I feel like I'm in some sort of horror movie."

"Do you feel threatened?" Ryan seemed unusually calm, and it frustrated Jason that his intense anger wasn't being matched in this situation. "Don't say anything, I already know the answer. You feel threatened.. but you haven't drawn your gun. Why?"

This wasn't answering any of Jason's questions. If anything, it was giving him even more. What sort of FBI agent hid in a dank basement and lured others down to screw with them? Whatever the reason, he was now acutely aware of the gun at his hip. After two years, he didn't think about it unless he was in the field. It was just a part of his job.

"If this paper is to be believed, you're my new boss. And we're still in a federal building. There are rules that need to be followed."

Again with the silence. Jason got the feeling that Agent Ryan was evaluating everything he said, weighing each word in order to choose his next ones. "It's time." He seemed to decide, and took two steps back. Jason couldn't remember when the man had gotten so close. "I believe you said that you have questions? I can answer them. In time.

"For now, all you need to know is that the Bureau has been pleased with your performance. You've only been an agent for two years, and are already being considered for a leadership position within the White Collar division."

"I am?" This was news to Jason, although he relished the idea of his own command. "Is that what this is?"

Agent Ryan shook his head, then turned and began to walk towards the far end of the room. "No, Agent Gideon. This is something completely different." He stopped suddenly and turned back towards Jason. "What do you know about the Chronolocked?"

Jason stopped abruptly behind him. "Do you mean the-?" He couldn't help but stumble over the words.. Surely Agent Ryan wasn't talking about those things?

"I do. Continue." He smiled, but it didn't make Jason feel more at ease. He had a feeling that he'd stumbled into something… something that he shouldn't have.

"Uh, well.. It's an urban legend. A crackpot conspiracy theory. They claim that the government is able to-to divine a person's fate." It was a popular theory, well-known.. like Area 51, or Sasquatch."

"It's not an urban legend. In fact it's all very true, though some details have been forgotten and others stretched past the point of realism." Agent Ryan revealed this the way he'd revealed everything else: with an air of boredom. Jason could only stare at him, and he opened his mouth to argue only for Agent Ryan to keep going. "Don't waste our time arguing about this. We're already behind because of your tardiness.

"The point is that Chronolocked persons are real, the government has been monitoring and grooming them ever since they were discovered in World War One. I won't get into the history now, but if you'd like you can read about it later. What matters, Agent Gideon, is that you are one of them." He finally paused to allow Jason a chance to absorb this knowledge.

"I-what? Wouldn't I have known?" He felt like that was something someone should've told him. Had his parents known? It felt as though the chronolock myth (known colloquially as locks to some people) had been around forever. But the Great War, as his father called it, had ended almost 70 years ago. 

He began to walk again, and Jason followed once more. "Obviously I can't answer that. There are no physical attributes of the gene, so if your parents were not informed then they couldn't have been able to tell you. Of course, it is possible that they knew and chose not to tell you."

They had now reached the end of the room: Jason was close enough to the archways to see an unused kitchenette tucked away behind them, and the thin carpeting changed to a black and white patterned tile. This _was_ a bullpen. Unused, and probably for a while. But why? Why would the FBI have all this space hidden away?

He followed Agent Ryan into a closed door nearest to the archways, and froze in his tracks.

Agent Ryan had flipped the light switch, revealing a cluster of heavy looking machinery and what seemed to be a dentist's chair. However, Jason didn't think that a dentist's chair usually had ankle and wrist restraints.

He turned, immediately realizing the danger of the situation, but it was too late. Someone had come in behind him, and Jason slammed right into the man's chest (yes, chest, because this man was over a foot taller than Jason himself). He barely had time to recognize the marine corps camouflage pattern before the man spun him right back around and began to force him towards the chair.

"What the hell are you- get off of me! Agent Ryan!" Jason tried to pull away from the man, to no avail. "Agent Ryan, what's going on? What is happening?" The agent had turned away from the scene and was now rifling through a drawer. That split second of distraction allowed the marine to finally wrestle Jason into the chair, and although he managed to kick the man several times in the chest and abdomen, there was no reaction.

He struggled against the straps, not giving up even as the marine tightened them and finally stepped back. "What the fuck?!" He screamed at the man, then glared at Agent Ryan, who was apparently done with his business on the other side of the room and was now approaching Jason with, of all things, a syringe. A big one too, and Jason could feel himself begin to panic. He hated needles. "Get the fuck away from me. I swear to God if you touch me I'll-"

"Shut up." Agent Ryan snapped, his face hard and drawn. "If you had behaved, this would be mixed with anesthetic. But you had to cause trouble, so you don't get any." He tapped a fingernail against the barrel. "This is a potent paralytic. Should keep you from struggling. We wouldn't want to accidentally damage anything, would we?"

"What are you going to do to me?" Jason tried to cringe away from the needle but the straps kept him relatively still.

"It is true that you're chronolocked, Agent Gideon. But everyone needs a push to realize their destiny. This is us.. pushing." And then he pierced Jason's skin with the needle, right above the crook of his elbow.

Gideon finds a package in his mailbox on Friday evening. Inside is a piece of paper and a disposable phone. The paper has a list of nine names, locations, and a timestamp on each line.

He's been preparing for this for the past week, cleaning up his new offices and having desks, chairs, and other things brought in. All by unmemorable Marines, who don't ask questions or even speak. To him or each other, though Gideon can't know what they do when they leave.

When he leaves each day, it's no longer to the apartment he'd been renting downtown. Instead he drives east, to a house surrounded by trees and acres of land. It's perfect for their purposes, and his free time is spent organizing bedrooms, his own and others (there are nine bedrooms in total), and rearranging the house's basement to look more like a classroom.

He knows something is wrong. Well, not wrong. Different. In the spare moment when his brain isn't whirling with plans and preparations, there's memories from before the procedure. They make him want to laugh- he'd been stupid, then. Barely a child, unable to look at things on a grand scale. It didn't matter that he was the same age as he had been a week ago, he was an entirely new person.

He doesn't remember the actual procedure, of course. Although that may have been because he chose not to remember it. All he remembered was standing up from the chair, and Agent Ryan shaking his hand. He'd handed him a thick envelope and said, "Agent Gideon, welcome to the BSU."

And then Gideon had promptly vomited on the floor.

It was the same type of envelope now, he recalled. Orange, with a sealed flap on top. The original is sitting in his office at the FBI.

He memorizes the list as he walks inside, and notes the date at the top of the page. It's his name there, with last Monday's date next to it. And below his name is another name, with 2/10/74 beside it. Monday morning.

The name was vaguely familiar, but Gideon didn't put much thought into it. He'd meet the new arrival soon enough.

The prospect of having someone else in the house, having another one of the bedrooms occupied.. it was interesting. He tried to imagine it, would they drive together to the Bureau? Or would secrecy be the _modus operandi,_ and they'd be asked to drive separately? These were questions he'd have to ask Agent Ryan on Monday.

There was the call of a bird outside- a Virginia rail, he believed, unusual this time of year. Gideon gazed at the page for one second longer, noting that almost all of these dates were years in the future. Finally he set it down on the coffee table and moved to the door, grabbing his hanging pair of binoculars as he went.

Monday morning started as every morning had since Gideon joined the BSU. He walked through the small clusters of desks, confirming that each piece of furniture was as untouched as it had been the day before. Then he turned the lights on in the kitchen, and brewed a pot of coffee.

This was where Monday morning differed. After he'd poured himself a cup of coffee, Gideon usually went to Agent Ryan's office to pick up his case files for the day. Today the office door was locked, and the light was off.

Further investigation yielded his case files, placed in a neat pile on top of his desk. With one last glance around the space Gideon shrugged to himself and got to work.

He'd been at it for an hour when there was a disturbance outside his door. One hand went to his gun, resting on his hip, and the other closed the case file on his desk. His office door was closed, muffling any sounds from outside, but Gideon could still hear the distinctive cadence of Max Ryan's voice- a cadence that had been difficult for him to recognize only a week ago. And louder still, were the indignant shrieks of someone following along behind. Gideon smiled softly to himself before schooling his expression and going to the door.

"If you don't stop jerking me around, Ryan, I swear I'll- Jason?"

Oh. Apparently they knew each other already. Gideon's memories from before the procedure were vague and nonspecific, but that name had sounded familiar. He went with it, wanting the new agent to feel as comfortable as possible. "Rossi. Good to see you."

The scene was familiar, but Gideon had only experienced it from Rossi's perspective. There was Agent Ryan, in the middle of one of his long spiels about what it meant to be Percae, the scientific name for a chronolocked. And Rossi, looking confused and frankly a little sick. Had Gideon himself looked like that, not too long ago?

And of course, the marine lurking in the doorway, whom Rossi had not yet noticed. Ryan hated to do any work himself.

"Jason, where have you been? You've been gone for a week, and William's wouldn't tell me anything. I even went to your apartment- what the hell?"

"I should've called, I'm sorry. I was- I was just worried that you wouldn't understand." It was too easy to pretend, to let his body go through the motions that others would instantly perceive as fear and worry. Even Agent Ryan believed it for a second- Gideon could see the sudden surprise shoot across his face before he schooled it once more into the usual serious expression. Interesting.

Gideon stepped closer, close enough to reach for Rossi's arm and tug him closer to the other room, at the far end of the bullpen. Rossi- endlessly trustworthy it seemed, followed.

He didn't know what he expected. For Rossi to have that trusting nature stripped away, for him to stand up after it was over and say 'Thank you.'?

They hadn't needed the marine at all, though he had stood in the doorway and watched them struggle. Gideon couldn't figure out why Rossi had looked so betrayed- he would understand everything soon enough.

As soon as Ryan pulled the tool away, Rossi was lurching haphazardly from the chair. His feet had barely touched the ground before he began to fall, and Gideon did not hesitate to catch him. "You should sit." He said quietly, aware of Ryan watching them from the corner.

For a moment he thought that Rossi would faint, as his face paled suddenly and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck you." He bit out instead. Then he did faint, collapsing like a doll in Gideon's arms.

Rossi slept for the rest of the day, in a little cot in Gideon's office. Agent Ryan locked himself in the- well, Gideon supposed it could be called an OR. Presumably he was cleaning it up, but it didn't really matter much to Gideon.

He roused Rossi at the end of the day, though the other didn't really wake up until they were in the car. Rossi took one look out the window and covered his eyes. "This is the worst hangover. Please tell me it's a hangover."

"It'll stop." Gideon says instead. "You just have to adjust." Rossi is lucky, he thinks. Gideon didn't have someone to walk him through what was happening. And he remembered the headaches.

"I should kill you. I swear. Jason- what the hell did you do to me?" Rossi still held his hands over his eyes, and he had his head tilted down towards his lap for good measure. If he laid like that for too long, blood would start to pool under the bandage above his right eye.

"Just call me Gideon, alright?" Gideon replied evasively. It seemed that everything he did was evasive. "Agent Ryan doesn't like members of his unit to get too chummy."

"I never agreed to this. I'm not a part of this 'unit'. I don't even know what it's called!"

"It's _called_ the Behavioral Science Unit. We solve crimes by examining patterns in behavior and victimology."

"And you had to give me brain surgery to be a part of it?!" Rossi yelled, and Gideon could see him wince at the loud noise.

"It's not brain surgery. You're being ridiculous. Agent Ryan explained this to you."

"He didn't explain _jack shit._ " Rossi hissed, one hand leaving his eyes to rub circles into his temple. "He just spouted off some conspiracy bullshit and then you _tied me to a chair and watched him give me a lobotomy._ "

"Actually, it was the exact opposite of a lobotomy." Gideon retorted. That only made Rossi angrier. His face was even more red, which didn't bode well for his blood pressure.

"Jason, I swear to God-"

" _Dave._ " Gideon raised his voice then, spitting the word out and intentionally triggering Rossi's headache. "I am not going to go over this with you again. If you're still too stupid to figure out what's going on, then I have a _pamphlet_ that you can read. But you need to shut up and tilt your head back 45 degrees so that you don't bleed out."

It was silent in the car for a few seconds, and then Rossi leaned his head very carefully against the headrest. "You called me Dave." He said quietly.

"I said shut up."

"Methinks there's some of the old Gideon in there after all." Gideon did not respond, keeping his stiff gaze on the road. Eventually, Rossi turned away as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave some comments or kudos! I prefer comments but I'll take what I can get! 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I'll post the next chapter when I finish it!!


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